


The Cloak Of Levitation And Loving Affection

by Marvelloussy (LadyGlinda)



Series: This Doctor Has A Strange Love Life [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stephen Strange - Fandom
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Other, POV Cloak of Levitation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Doctor Strange (2016), Smut, sentient object
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 21:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/Marvelloussy
Summary: After the events of beating Dormammu, Stephen Strange is in the New York Sanctum - alone with the Cloak of Levitation. The Cloak is severely in love. And it longs for sex.





	The Cloak Of Levitation And Loving Affection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scarletmanuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This was meant to be funny but somehow... this got serious :D I'm German so apologies for my grammar slippings.
> 
> Just found the perfect pic to this story on Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.de/pin/435864070182162876/  
> "Clange" is real! :)

For centuries, it had just hung there. Contained behind glass, not needed, or maybe needed but… it had not seen a reason to expose itself to more violence. It had been so… pointless. It had loved a good fight in its days but they had been over for long, and it had been just so tired… Nobody had been worth or trusted with appreciating its support and protection. So it had hung around, lazily watching the world that became more and more ludicrous and cruel and just nothing it wanted to participate in.

And then… this man… Crashing into the vitrine, in danger of dying, in need of its help. And it had given him the benefit of the doubt, or so it had thought. Not knowing if he was worth it, it had jumped at his side, prevented his fall, and given him its assistance in fighting back the Zealots and then accompanied him to outsmarting Dormammu.

And he had proven to be worth it, oh yes. He was… worth everything… He was brave and smart and cocky and handsome as hell…

The Cloak would have blushed if it hadn't already been red.

It slowly drifted over to the sorcerer who was sitting at his desk, reading The Great Book of Unending Wisdom. He had taken over the New York Sanctum a few days ago and he was so obsessed with learning everything he could.

It seemed to be a _not-that-pleasurable_ lecture. “Fuck, stop that!” Impatiently Stephen grabbed a page that kept turning back. “I need to know that!”

He was not a happy man. He was still dealing with his ego, his hunger for knowing things he should let lie and his loneliness, not even mentioning the loss of his former life and the perfection of his hands. The contact with Christine had broken off, and the Cloak couldn’t say it was exactly upset about that. Stephen didn’t need her.

It shuffled uncomfortably, feeling anxious and nervous and it would have scratched random patterns into the floor if it had had feet.

Silently it moved forward, laying itself gently around Stephen's broad shoulders, brushing the briefest touch to his neck with its collar. He didn’t tell it to stop this time; in fact he didn’t even notice and went on insulting the ancient book.

It sucked to be in love if you were a cloak.

*****

Idly floating in the air, seeming completely untouched, the Cloak witnessed its master undressing. It was its favourite moment of the day – well, actually there were three of them – dressing up, showering, undressing. Everything that made the sorcerer become naked… allowed it to admire him in full, wonderful glory.

Too soon the long-limbed body with the muscles of steel (the Cloak didn’t have eyes but it wasn't _blind_ ) disappeared under the light blanket.

The Cloak waited for a few minutes until it could be sure that Stephen had fallen asleep, then it drifted over to the bed and _oh-so-gently_ draped itself over the silent figure, its collar breathing a kiss on the strong chin.

The Cloak listened into the silent Sanctum. It was all fine and safe, no need for alertness. It could rest and enjoy being so close to the man it loved and would do everything in the world for.

It didn’t really sleep, not that, but it turned its magic on half-mute for the night. It could foresee dangers and it was convinced none would pop up tonight. So it felt strangely disoriented when it was rudely… not _woken up_ but pulled out of the depths of not being quite conscious.

It took it a moment to realize that there wasn’t any danger. It was just a sorcerer having a bad dream. He was shivering and tossing around and then he sat up with wild eyes and sweaty hair, pushing the Cloak from his body almost violently, drawing an inaudible gasp from the artifact.

“Fuck, my hands… I dreamt that my hands…” he stammered and then he broke off. The Cloak saw him looking down on his damaged fingers. “God…” He let himself fall back. “It's real… It's all real… And who am I talking to? It's nobody here…”

Very slowly the Cloak shuffled forward, tenderly snuggling against the former doctor's neck. He sighed. “Yes, not all alone…” He sounded utterly depressed and it broke the Cloak's invisible heart. It crawled even closer, the hemline gently caressing the manhandled fingers.

“You do understand everything I say, don't you?” Stephen mumbled. “Seems you're all that's left, my only friend, the _Cloak_ …”

Somehow the Cloak wasn't overly fond of the sarcasm in the man's voice… It retreated a bit and if it had a head, it would have hung it now. “Sorry,” Stephen grumbled to its surprise. It shuddered when the sorcerer's hands stroked over its fabric and it melted into the unexpected touch.

It wished it could do more for him, comfort him with words of love. But all it could do was covering him again, enwrap him into its tender, soft embrace and hope he would understand how deeply it cared for him.

Soon Stephen found back to sleep, lying calmly under the Cloak, but the artifact didn’t rest for the remains of the night, instead listening to the heartbeat under it, just to be right there if its beloved would be tortured by nightmares again.

# *****

Something had changed, the Cloak realized the next day, and it could hardly believe it. Stephen talked to it! Talked to it as if it was a person! Just random remarks and rhetoric questions but still… It felt appreciated.

And he appeared happier today. He ate some healthy food, even cut vegetables for his meal, and simply seemed more relaxed. And the Cloak couldn’t find any reason for these changes apart from the comfort it had spent the sorcerer in the night. Nobody had talked to him, Wong hadn't come through a portal to visit him, Christine hadn't mailed him – everything else was just the same as yesterday.

So the Cloak started to have tiny hopes. It wasn’t stupid though – it knew Stephen would never return its feelings. But perhaps… they could be friends. And perhaps… Stephen would allow him to get a little more, well, tactile. It wanted to spend comfort in the only way it could – by using itself to caress and touch.

It was a pretty warm day though and the Cloak wasn't that sure that Stephen would appreciate if it covered him during the night in addition to the blanket. So it waited, floating within a respectful distance to the bed when Doctor Strange had crawled under the blanket after another day of thorough studies, as usual without bothering with any kind of clothing. He had even bent over during undressing and the Cloak had gotten a glimpse of not only his naked bottom but of the space between the smooth, golden cheeks. It had been a view it would not forget… If it had had a penis, it would have risen to the navel it also didn’t have.

It startled when Stephen growled: “Come over, would you? I sleep better with you not hanging in the corner like a ghost…”

But there was an undertone in these words. As if he had another reason for sleeping better with the Cloak lying on him but didn’t want to admit it.

The Cloak hurried to drape itself over him, cursing the fact that the blanket was between them. And as if Stephen had read its mind, he mumbled: “Damn, it's too warm like this. Get up for a second, would you.”

The Cloak obeyed and to its delight, Stephen removed the blanket from his upper body, shoving it down to his feet that the Cloak couldn’t quite cover. Shivering in anticipation, the Cloak floated down on the glorious body presented to him so nicely.

“You're tickling me,” Stephen complained and it hurried to lie still. “So… did you do that before? Sleeping on the people you supported? Do you even sleep? And why do I ask you – it's not as if you could answer me.” To show that he meant no harm with his words, he stroked over the fabric, even pinching it teasingly.

If it could have, the Cloak would have told him that yes, it had been close to one of his protégés before. It had been another young, good-looking man and the Cloak had been allowed to serve him in ways the former surgeon would probably have difficulties to imagine. But… it had been different. It had only been physically. The Cloak hadn't been in love with this man. How much more meaningful and stunning would it be with Stephen…

Of course Stephen didn’t have anything like this on his mind. He just snuggled into the pillows, ready to sleep. But he did pull the Cloak up even higher and didn’t protest against getting his chin and ears and cheekbones gently brushed. He chuckled. “Is that your equivalent of a goodnight-kiss? Goodnight then, little fellow.” And to the Cloak's greatest delight, he pressed his stunningly formed lips onto the collar. It practically got boneless on the muscular body under this unexpected caressing.

It didn’t take Stephen long to fall asleep and the Cloak allowed itself to relax. It hoped that Stephen's sleep would be undisturbed tonight.

But it wasn't. It had no idea how much time had passed when it was startled by strange movements under it again. Only that this time the sorcerer wasn’t having a nightmare. Something poked into the Cloak from beneath it. Something big and hard and attached to the body of its beloved.

“Oh,” Stephen made, still being sound asleep.

The Cloak could feel his big hands moving under it, searching for his proudly thickened cock.

It couldn’t be forbidden, could it – a bit of friendly assistance? It was now or never.

The Cloak gently wrapped itself around the hot flesh before Stephen's hands could reach it. It started to ruffle around it, milking it, and the sorcerer moaned loudly in the silent room. He moved and his legs parted enough so the Cloak could sneak a corner of itself in the space, searching for two swollen, smooth balls. It didn’t grab them as hard as it had done with his dick, knowing men didn’t appreciate that. Instead it gently enwrapped them and weighed them, then it slid deeper to touch the sleeping man's perineum.

“Fuck, what…” Stephen was awake in an instant. “What are you… Oh…”

The Cloak had given his dick an exceptionally firm squeeze, noticing a bit of wetness dribbling onto it, and while the sorcerer started to seriously wiggle, it drunk the precious drops, wiping over the small slit to capture even more.

“This isn't happening,” Doctor Strange mumbled to himself.

Not feeling offended but eager to make a point, the Cloak let the part of it that was fondling the soft spot behind Stephen's balls slide deeper, tickling his wrinkled, pink hole.

“Oh, what… Hey, no! You can't just… Oh fuck…”

The Cloak could and did roll the seamed corner tightly and slipped inside, using just a tiny bit of magic to ease its way so it wouldn’t hurt the beloved. It knocked at a certain bundle of nerves, making the sorcerer shout something very indecent, but he didn’t make an attempt at getting rid of the Cloak…

Now it attacked on all spots – it firmly massaged the fully erect cock, slid over the swollen balls with feather light touches and slid in and out of its master's ass, poking his prostate with every thrust.

Stephen cried out and then he bucked up and showered the Cloak with the semen that shot out of him in strong, countless spurts. Greedily the Cloak absorbed it all, milking the very last drop out of the throbbing cock.

The sorcerer was panting and swearing and shivering through his orgasm, his biceps swollen as he was fisting the sheets, in his arousal apparently ignoring the hurt it had to cause his hands. Then he slumped together when his dick softened in the caressing grip of the Cloak.

“Oh my… Fucking hell, this was the best sex I ever had…” he hissed when he was able to speak again.

The Cloak shuddered under the flattery, feeling utterly happy and more than a little proud. It gently wiped away the sweat from Stephen's forehead and then proceeded to dry off his entire body.

“How… Why… Oh, sod it… Did you like to do that?”

The Cloak patted his arm.

“Yeah, of course you did. You like me?”

This cried for tenderly stroking his face.

“You… love me?”

The Cloak squeezed his entire body and let the collar touch his lips.

“Wow… You should have told me! Well… Is there anything I could do for you?” Stephen stroked over the fabric with both hands.

Nothing could have made the Cloak happier than this question. Of course it had already gotten everything it had longed for. It snuggled against the doctor's face and let itself settle on him.

“So no… Well… Thank you. This was… unbelievable. Um… any chance to do this again? Tomorrow maybe?”

The Cloak lifted up and fell down on him again at once – a light form of bouncing.

“Great. But this… has to stay between the two of us, you know? It's our little secret.”

The Cloak gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Good. You're really a great friend, you know. I'm very glad you chose me.”

Who else should it have chosen? Doctor Stephen Strange was the one. The one the Cloak would do anything for. The one that completed it. The one it loved. And damn, it had felt so fantastically great to make love to him.

If it was allowed to do this over and over, it would be the happiest cloak in the universe.

Stephen continued to gently stroke it until sleep took him.

The Cloak stayed awake, watching over him, enjoying the presence of the beloved under it until dawn, and if it had had a mouth, it would have smiled.

 

The End


End file.
